The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-07-06
HOWELLS' BOYHOOD.
The story of the Homesiek Little Printer.

cannot remember now whether it
was in the early spring after our first
winter in the log cabin, or in the early
part of the second winter, which found
US still there, that it was justly thought
fit | should leave these vain delights
and 90 to earn some money in print
ing office in x. was, though so
young. a good compositOr, swift and
clean, and when the foreman of the
printing office appeared one day at our
cabin, and asked if | could come and
take the place of delinquent nand.
there was no question with any one
but myself that | must 90. For me, a
terrible homesickness fell instantly
upon me-a homesickness that al
ready, in the mere prospect Of absence,
pierced my heart, and filled my throat,
and blinded me with tears.
The foreman wanted me to 90 back
with him in his buggy, but a days
grace was granted me, and then my
older brother took me to x, where
he was to meet my father at the rail-
road station on his return from Gin
cinnati 1t had been showing, in the
soft, Southern Ohio fashion, but the
clouds had broken away and the even
ing fell in a clear sky, apple-green
along the horizon, as we drove on.
This color of the sky must always be
associated for me with the despair that
| then filled my soul, and which | was
constantly swallowing down with great
gulps. We joked, and got some miser-
able laughter out of the efforts of the
horse To free himself from the snow
that balled in his hoofs, but | suffered
all the time an anguish of homesick-
ness that now seems incredible. All
the time had every fact of the cabin
| life before me; what each of the chill
| dren was doing, especially the younger
! ones, and what, above all, my mother
was doing, and how at every moment
| she was looking; | saw the wretched
little phantasm Of myself moving about
| there.
The editor To whom my brother de-
| livercd me over could not conceive of
me as tragedy; he received me as if
! were the merest commonplace, and de-
, lWered me in turn to the good man
1 with whom | was to board. There
/ were half dozen school girls board
| ing there, too, and their gayety when
| they came in added to my desolation.
The man said supper was about
ready, and he reckoned | would get
something to eat if | looked out for
myself. Upon reflection, | answered
| that | thought did not want any sup
| per, and that | must 90 to find my
brother, whom had to tell something.
| found him at the station and told him
| | was going home with him. He tried
to reason with me, or rather with my
| l. Il
to leave the question open till my faith
er cameS but III my own mind 1T was
| closed.
My father suggested, however, some
| thing that had not occurred to either
of us; we should both stay. This
seemed possible for me; but not at that
| boarding-housc- within the sound
| of the laughter of those girls! We
went to the hotel, where we had beef
steak and ham and eggs and hot bis
cult every morning for breakfast, and
where we paid s. apiece for the week
we stayed. At the end of this time the
editor had found another hand, and
we went home, where | was welcomed
as from a years absence.
Again | was called to suffer this trial
the chief trial of my boyheod-but il
came in a milder form, and was light
ened to me not only by the experience
| of survival from it, but by various cir
cumstances. This time / went to
D., where one of my uncles was
still living, and he somehow learned
the misery | was in, and bade me come
| and stay with him while | remained in
! D.. | was very fond of him and oi
| the gentle creature, his wife, who stood
to me for all that was naturally and
conventionally refined, a type OF gra-
cious loveliuess and worldly splendOr.
They had an only child, To whom
| her cousins presence in the house was
a constant joy. Over them all hung
the shadow of fragile health, and look
back at them through the halo OF their
early death; but the remembrance can
not make them kinder than they really
were. With all that | was homesick
still. ] fell asleep with the radiant
image of our log cabin before my eyes.
and awoke with my heart like lead
in my breast.
did not see how could get through
the day, and | began it with miserable
tears. / had found that by drinking a
good deal of water at my meals could
keep down the sobs for the time being,
and | practiced this device to the sur
prise and alarm of my relatives, who
were troubled with the spectacle of my
unnatural thirst
Sometimes l left the table and ran
out for a burst of tears behind the
house; every night after dark | cried
there alone. But / could not wholly
hide my suffering, and / suppose that
after awhile the sight of it became in
tolerable. At any rate, blessed
evening came, when, returning from
work, l found my brother waiting for
me at my uncle's house; and the next
morning we set out for home in the
keen silent dark before the November
dawn.
We were both mounted on the italic-
footed mare, | behind my brother with
my arms around him to keep on bet
ter, and so we rode out of the sleeping
town and into the lifting shadow of the
woods. They might have swarmed
with ghosts or Indians, | should not
have cared; was going home.
By-and-by, as we rode on, the birds
began to call one another from their
dreams; the quails whistled from the
stubble fields, and the crows clamored
from the tops of the deadening. The
squirrels raced along the fence-rails,
and in the woods they stopped half.
way up the holes to bark at US; the
Jaws strutted down the shelving
branches to offer us a passing insult
and defiance.
Presently, at a little clearing, VIC
came to log cabin; the blue smoke
curled from its chimney, and through
the closed door came the soft, low hum
of a spinning-wheel. The red and yel-
low leaves, heavy with the cold dew,
dripped round us; and l was profound.
ly at peace. The homesick viii under
stand how it was that was as if saved
from death.
AT last we crossed the tail-race from
the island and turned up, not at the
old log cabin, but at the front door o1
the new house. The family had fitted
during my absence, and now they all
burst out upon me in exultant welcome
and my mother caught me to her heart
Doubtless she knew that it would have
been better for me to have conquered
myself; but my defeat was dearer tC
her than my triumph could have been
She made me her honored guest; haC
the best place at the table, the tender
est bit of steak, the richest cup of hel
golden coffee; and all that day | was
''company."-W ID. HolcellS tfs Toffth';
Companion.